Rise
by LinIsSleepy
Summary: As a kid, Lex had wanted to be several things when she grew up. An astronaut, an engineer, a space mechanic. But she never thought she'd end up being a soldier in a war that spanned the entire universe. And she definitely never thought she would be fighting alongside six giant robot cats. But hey. Here she was.


"–and then he said, 'They don't call me the Tailor for nothing!'"

Laughter erupted in the Garrison's mess hall, the crowded table creaking under the cadets as they leaned back to suck in air. Marshall was practically slapping his knee, guffawing like a horse. Grant choked on his food but was polite enough not to spit it out on his plate. It didn't look good in the first place.

"I feel bad for the janitor who had to clean up after them." Karlston didn't look too sorry. Just amused.

My stomach rolled, and I let my fork plop on my still-full tray. "I can still smell the vomit."

Vivian pushed up her glasses next to me. "You've always been sensitive to strong smells."

I grumbled, resting my chin on my hand.

The brunette sighed. "Don't know what Iverson was thinking, letting those three stay in the program after that mess."

"Entertainment?" Grant shrugged. "I thought today was very interesting. Definitely memorable."

"And educational. I learned what _not_ to do." Karlston mimicked my pose, grinning.

Marshall scoffed. "Yeah, before today, I _didn't_ know not to throw up on the control panel. Guess we can thank them after all."

"Let's not talk about that part anymore, thanks," I sighed. I only had a weak stomach when it came to smells. And, like, eighty percent of smell was memory, so the more they brought it up, the worse my stomach churned.

"They're making a joke of the Garrison," Vivian hissed. She was a nice friend to have sometimes, and a decent computer specialist, but she just couldn't let things go. I had gotten grease on her uniform once–I was always covered in the stuff, as the team's engineer and mechanic–and she made me wash it and barely spoke to me for three days. Until she wanted to pass her teamwork assessment. "Some people just shouldn't be here."

I stole a glance behind me.

The mess hall was meant to be efficient so it was relatively small, and therefore often crowded with the cadets. Yet the trio had a table for eight all to themselves.

Lance McClain. Hunk Garrett. Pidge Gunderson.

If they heard what the others were saying about them, they didn't let it show. Hunk seemed dismayed by the food, if anything. Lance was running his mouth off, and Pidge didn't even pretend to listen to him. But I was pretty sure they could at least hear the boys.

"Make sure you keep it down this time, Garrett!"

Hunk's ears immediately turned red. He looked away and didn't react any further.

I shot back around, hiding my face in my hands after a glare at Karlston. I was glad I hadn't bothered to take off my leather work gloves. They cooled off my embarrassed cheeks.

"Don't feel bad for them, Lex," Vivian frowned. "They need to go."

If she and Karlston weren't my assigned partners, I would have . . .

I didn't know, actually. I wouldn't have ever spoken to them, they wouldn't need me, and wouldn't bother to miss me. Then _I_ would have been alone at a table, instead of others arguing about sitting next to me. My squad could have been the laughing stock.

Either way. Knocking another group out of the program was pointless for our ranking and grades if they were beneath us. And doing it with harassment was just unethical.

I shouldn't have looked down. But I did. My brother's dog tags gleamed up at me from the chain on my neck. I could practically hear his voice in my head. He sounded disappointed.

I sighed, knowing I would have to rectify that.

* * *

"Uh… hi."

Pidge Gunderson was short. He stared up at me, bored. Or expectant, but the glare on his glasses made him hard to read.

"Sorry to corner you like this." I glanced sheepishly at the door behind him. The boys' bathroom. I typically hid my shoulder-length hair up in my bandana, except for my dirty blonde bangs, and I slouched horrendously, but I definitely wasn't a boy. But for some reason, I felt that this couldn't wait until tomorrow.

"Can I help you with something?" Pidge raised an eyebrow. "It's almost curfew."

"Right, sorry." I rubbed the back of my neck. See, that was why my hair was tucked away.

"Uh…"

I winced, wondering why I was putting myself through this. I never considered myself shy, but situations like these made me uncomfortable.

"I just wanted to apologize about my squad," I managed. I tried to look him in the eye like my brother had taught me. "They said some things that they shouldn't have."

And Pidge said, "Cool," and pushed past me.

I blinked. "What?"

Pidge continued to walk off.

"Is that it?"

He must not have heard me. My feet were moving before I could stop myself. I caught up with him at his dorm. "Pidge–"

"Not trying to ignore you, but I'm a little busy at the moment." He spared me a glace. "If you're actually sorry, tell your friends to shove off next time. But I don't really care what they say about me, anyway. Their opinions don't matter." He stepped through his door and it slid shut.

I stood there, mouth open in surprise for two reasons.

One: Pidge hadn't said that to be spiteful. He actually didn't care about them. He was doing better things with his time. I couldn't help but feel a spark of jealousy. I wished I was strong enough to not care about that stuff. And also, it made me hate my apology. I had only said it to make myself feel better, not because I had meant it. And saying it just to hopefully appease my brother's ghost was the wrong reason, too.

Two: Vivian hadn't been kidding about my sense of smell. And right then, I smelled a very familiar scent. Ordinary, in most circumstances.

The iron tinge of blood.

Special blood.

Monthly blood.

TOM blood.

Thing was, there was no one else in the hallway, and I had gotten off mine the week before.

* * *

I had planned, originally, to apologize to Hunk and Lance immediately after Pidge. Now I was looking for Hunk's room for an entirely different reason.

My mind was racing.

Pidge was a girl. But girls were allowed into the program, so why would he–she–lie? And who all knew? Just me? Her squad?

I wanted answers. I didn't know what I would do with them, but this wasn't something I could just let go. What if she was a spy? What if she was in the Witness Protection Program?

Just then the Sergeant announced curfew. I swore under my breath, scanned the halls, and slipped behind a corner as two officers marched into sight. I wasn't sure what I was thinking, but I was acting on pure instinct here. Well. Curiosity killed the cat.

And I still hadn't found Hunk's room. This was going to be hard. I could get caught, or just end up wandering around for hours with nothing to gain.

I held my breath and listened until all the footsteps died down and the lights flicked off in the hall. Then I peeked my head around the corner. And nearly jumped when Lance and Hunk did the same in the hallway up from me.

"What are you up to?" I muttered. I hastily rolled up my pant legs.

I followed them, of course.

Even when they crawled on all-fours like total wankers. But I supposed the army crawl would have been overkill.

I didn't realize they had been tailing Pidge until I stepped out onto the roof behind them.

* * *

 **Lex is kind of a chameleon. What I mean is, she tends to change her behavior depending on the group she's with. Someone may say something she absolutely disagrees with, and while she won't openly agree or disagree with them, she'll make the other person think she's on their side. Which, as we saw in the lunchroom, gets complicated when two different groups meet up. If I continue this, I'm going to try rather short chapters and see if that lets me update more quickly with my schedule. They'll probably vary in length by quite a bit, this chapter is shorter than I'm used to. Let me know what you think of that?**

 **Please review! I would love to see what you think. Should I continue this? Thank you for reading.**

 **~Lin**


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